


Sold My Soul to a Three-Piece

by mizufallsfromkumo



Series: Gravity [4]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Family, Gen, Going Home, Healing, Hurt, Hurt Dick Grayson, Panic Attacks, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secrets, Therapy, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 06:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13781367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizufallsfromkumo/pseuds/mizufallsfromkumo
Summary: “And I see you have finally returned home, young Master Dick.”  Alfred said as he turned to look at Dick.His tone of voice was easy and calm.Almost like Dick just decided to take a really long vacation without warning.  Or ran away to some friends house for a few days after a bad argument.  Instead of disappearing for eight months and coming back looking like someone had more than put him through the ringer.Leave it to Alfred make it sound like nothing was wrong when it counted.





	Sold My Soul to a Three-Piece

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, Sorry this took so long for me to to post. I struggled writing this fic more than I thought. Like really struggled with, I rewrote some of it a few times before I liked it. And then I split it into two fics, because it was going to be super long, and allowed for a good cliff hanger. But fear not, I will be posting the next part of this fic tomorrow.
> 
> Any way hope you enjoy!

It had been a week.

A whole week since he woke up.

A full solid week of being confined to the med bay.  Being handled like he was going to crumble into nothing at the slightest of touch, or snap at the drop of a pen. Carefully navigating prying concern of friends and family.  Answering questions that were not about his eight month disappearance, but were  _ totally  _ about his eight month disappearance. And ignoring the looks everyone gave him when they thought he wasn’t looking.

Dick was about done with it about three days in.

But now he was  _ finally _ going home.

He couldn’t be happier.

Well, no, he could.

There was still a lot of questions he had.  Ones he couldn’t easily get answers too.  Especially with the whole team hovering around, or Bruce watching his every microscopic move when he was in the room.  

And there was still the feeling of panic in his gut that he he can’t quite push down.  Or the paranoia that  _ something _ was going to happen, or  _ someone  _ was just going to show up and take him back, before anyone could do anything about it.

Or worse, someone would find out things sooner than he wanted them too.

But given the circumstances, and ignoring the sense of uncertainty and lingering panic and paranoia, he couldn’t be happier.

Three months of running and hiding after five months captivity and pain had been building to this.  Doing his best to keep the everyone after as off his tail as best he could, so he could get back safely.

Back to his life.

Back to his plans.

Finally the seemingly endless cycle had stopped enough.

Dick could breathe for a moment.  Heal and get a better grip on his reality again.  Gather some control and understanding of everything.  Actually have the ability to prepare of the what was to come into the future.  

Because Dick knew it wasn’t over. 

It was a  _ long  _ way from over.

He’s simply just made himself slightly harder for them to get to.  Gained himself a little more room for decent push back and resistance.  Collected just a little more power in the situation. Forced them to play their cards a lot more carefully once they figured out  _ where _ he was once again.

Not that would actually discourage them from trying to still have a few goes at it if Dick wasn’t careful.  No, if anything, it would just frustrate them.  Which Dick was totally fine with.

“Are you ready to go?”  Bruce’s voice suddenly knocked Dick from his thinking.

The acrobat turned to look at his mentor.  Finding him standing just outside the area of the hospital bed Dick had been in for the past two weeks almost.  Doing his best to not look like he was completely trying to hover around the first Robin.  

Which, to most people it would look like he was doing rather well, but Dick knew better.

“Yeah,” Dick answered with a bright grin.

He had been ready to go since three days of coming to.  Yet through a mix of doctor’s orders, the general caution and tension his sudden return and lack of explanations brought, Dick had been forced to stay the week.  

Not that Dick has minded a terrible amount.  

He had after all carefully lace his hesitations about leaving the Cave into conversations.  Burying them under words that sounded careless or mindless enough to think nothing of, but feed the idea just enough.  Trick the Team and everyone else into thinking it was a  _ good _ idea to just observe and assess him for a few more days, while he pretended to pout and complain when they told him.

After all Mount Justice would safe.  No one was going to think to look for him here.  They had little reason to think that was where had been the past couple of weeks.

But Gotham…was not.

Slade  _ expected _ him to return to Gotham eventually.  It was simply only a matter of time.

The tingle in the back of his skull flared a little at the thought.  Racing down his limbs in quick assurance.  Dick carefully flexed his hands at the feeling to ease it away with the thoughts with the fact that, at least now, he was able to decently stand on his own again.

Widening his smile, Dick wasted little time making his way towards Bruce.  Doing his best to carefully put his weight on his right leg. 

His wounds were, for the most part, healled.  The stitches had been taken out a couple days prior.  Yet, the muscles still ached and protested with pain at some movements or sudden weight on them as they continued to heal.  

Still Dick needed to mindful of just how he put his weight on his right leg.  It needed to be just so.   Enough to get a decent look of pain and discomfort across his face so Bruce didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.  Like the fact that he wasn’t completely limping along right.  But not too much that the older man insisted Dick use the crutch he has refused earlier.

Bruce turned on his heels once the teen reached him.

Turning sharply in a way that might translate to annoyance or anger to anyone else.  And maybe there was a little of that.  After all Dick had dodge answering all his questions for the past week with a variety of methods that were frustrating to Batman.  

But Dick knew better.  

Or at least knew it was done out of a mix of relief and urgency to get Dick home.

Home to the manor.  

Where Dick would be in Alfred’s esteemed care.  Healing and regaining his strength under watchful eyes and the right amount of space.  Every aspect of his recovering controlled and planned.  Surround by a collection of sophisticated and well hidden security systems that few could get past going in or out.

Where they could work through whatever happened and moved on.  Without the eyes and ears of the Team or members of league lingering just around the corner.  Bruce could get his answers, and Dick could argue as loud as he wanted.

Where Dick wouldn’t have so much room to wiggle out of things so easily.

Yeah... _ great. _

The acrobat followed after his mentor, swallowing down the sigh that was in his throat.

The walk to the Zeta tubes was not a terribly long one from the med bay.  For some pretty obvious reasons.

But damn, did it  _ feel _ long as Dick followed after Batman.

The usual seven minute walk felt like it took forever.  And Dick wasn’t sure if it was because it took just slightly longer because of his healing injuries.  Meaning he really should have taken Wally on his offer to push him around in a wheelchair to the tubes.  Okay maybe not  _ Wally’s _ offer, but anyone else's.  Or if it was because of the slight ache all through his body stretching his sense of time.

Either way, it felt like a  _ terribly _ long trek.

Kaldur, Wally, and Conner were standing around the Zeta Tubes when they arrived.  Along with Black Canary, Superman, and Red Tornado.  All of them trying to make it seem like there were there for a slightly different reason that Dick leaving.

Bruce quickly made a beeline for the holo-screen computer.  Instantly working on programing the zeta tubes for their departure.  Or making sure a few last minute things were in order before they left for Gotham.  Dick wasn’t really sure.  Clark walked over shortly after Bruce started typing away and blocked some of the screen from Dick.

Dick suppressed the slight panic that rose in this throat at the thought of returned to Gotham.  

Instead, he turned his attention towards walking towards his teammates. Smiling warmly at them as he neared.  Like nothing was wrong him whatsoever.  Only Conner visibly frowns at him.  Dick curses the clone’s super hearing.

“I do hope your recovery is a quick one, my friend.”  Kaldur said after a moment.

“Yeah, dude, hurry up and get better.”  Wally cut in, zipping in front of the Atlantean instantly.  

Dick, by some miracle, didn’t flinch when the speedster was suddenly in his face.  But he could feel his whole body tense.  And there is a flare of a tingle in his limbs, that Dick redirects towards his right leg as he eased back against it for some space.

Wally seemed to notice, and eased back just slightly.  And out of the corner of his eyes, Dick could see Conner glare at him slightly.  Dick winced in pain for good measure, then shifted his stance. 

“The sooner the better, really.”  Wally continued.  “I mean like speedster level healing if you can manage it would be great.”

“I’ll do my best.”  Dick said off-handedly.

“Take as long as you require.”  Kaldur stated firmly as he eased Wally out of the way.  He gave the speedster something of pointed look with his pale colored eyes, before turning to Dick with a softer expression.  “The team while enjoy your return  _ whenever _ it happens.”

“Thanks Kal.”  The acrobat said softly.  “Trust me, with luck it wouldn’t be too long.”

Physically he would be fine in a little other a month.  Metantly...was a different story.

The Atlantean nodded gently in return.

“What he said.” Conner stated flatly as he motioned towards Kaldur.

Dick breathed out a laugh.

“And you know, don’t worry about over thinking the whole Nightwing thing.”  Wally added in quickly.  His grin widening instantly an encouragement.  “Doesn’t seem to overly complicated.”

If only the speedster knew.

Dick still had  _ a lot _ to consider about being Nightwing.  

More than anyone knew. 

More than he was going to tell anyone until he figured it out.

It wasn’t so cut and dry as when he first had the idea.

The younger teen hummed lightly at the idea.  Giving Wally a small nod and smile like he would taking his words into account.  But he turned his attention to the ground, as he shoved  his hands into the pockets of the hoodie he was wearing.

Bruce suddenly cleared his throat.

Instantly pulling attention away from Dick before anyone can notice and say something.  Much to Dick’s relief.

The younger teen to Batman, finding him hovering not to far away.  Something of a deep frown on his lips.  Of course,  _ he  _ noticed Dick’s sudden sharp shift in body language.

“We’re leaving now.”  He stated simply.

“Asterous,”  Dick said.  More than happy to get out the situation.

He quickly made his way to the zeta tube.  Ignoring the way his fingers were tingling at the very fact that he was going back to Gotham.  His only sense of calm is that Batman was basically smuggling him back into the city in the dead night.

Carefully he pulled the hood of the hoodie he was given up.  Making sure it was in place just so to disguise who he was to anyone that might see.  Even with the mask still on.  No one said anything about it.

He took a breath calming breath before stepping into the tube.

“ **_Recognized: Nightwing, B-01._ ** ” The computer started robotically as the tube whirled and the light grew.

Dick felt a smile grow on his lips at the name.

* * *

The Batmoible wasn’t parked too far away from the Zeta Tube.

Definitely closer to where Bruce  _ liked _ to park it when he used the tube.  Like  _ way  _ closer than Bruce like any of them parking their vehicles close to the tube.  

Literally it was waiting for them at the base of the grimy old alleyway. 

Dick is pretty sure he had Alfred send it there.

No doubt done because Dick was still injured and way too squirrely for Bruce to chance anything.  Either in concern of hurting him further, or having Dick vanish on him for another period of time again. Or simply to limit the amount of time the teen was exposed to the cold wetness of Gotham so soon after being in something of a coma for four days.

Dick really couldn’t bring himself to care.

He simply slid into the vehicle the first chance he got.

Slid in easily, and curled up in the shadows of the passenger seat.  Instantly finding comfort in the familiar enclosed feeling of the car.  The sense of the security gave him, eased away his nerves just so, that the back of his skull didn’t feel like it was on fire.  He ignored whatever look Bruce gave him as the older man got in.

The drive back to the manor was quiet.  

Something Dick was for once thankful for.

Even though he could feel Bruce’s tension grow with every passing block that Dick remained quiet.  Every moment Dick remained still in the silent comfort the Batmobile was supplying him with.  Bruce’s grip on the wheel and expression tight as he drove through the streets of Gotham fifteen miles over the speed limit whenever Dick spared him a glance.

It didn’t take them too long to reach the Batcave.

The Batmobile stopped shortly on the platform of the cave before Bruce flicked it off.

Dick didn’t give Bruce any time to say anything if he wanted to.  He pushed open the door before the roof could peel off.  Easily pulling himself out of the car before Bruce could even make a sound if he wanted to.

He carefully braced himself against the coolness of the car’s exterior as he fake hissed in pain.  In his quickness to get out, he had forgotten there should be weight on his right leg.  Weight that hurt.  But he hoped his haste would explain the sudden fluidity of it all, as he half collapsed on the car as he pulled back the effects of the tingling in his limbs.

“Dick,”  Bruce said suddenly.  Concern bubbling in his voice.

“I’m fine.”  Dick returned easily, pushing himself off the car.  He peeled off his mask easily, before looking at Bruce.  “Just forgot weight on the leg is not currently a whelming feeling.”  He hissed out as he carefully put the right amount of weight on his leg.

“Let me help you--”

“I’m  _ fine. _ ” Dick snapped with just the right amount of ‘don’t touch me’ and dangerous feral edge to get Bruce to stop in his sharp advance toward him.

Stop him dead in his tracks.  

Because it’s scared, dangerous, and a warning.  And if Clark’s had no doubt talked Bruce about what happened when he woke Dick up from dozing, then he knows outcome could easily go violent.  And Bruce is a lot more vulnerable than Clark.

The acrobat knew Bruce will read into the tone.  

Come to his own conclusion as to why Dick even said it in that way.  None of them will be good in any way.  But Dick’s already sure it will at least give some more solidity to some theories the man already had about it what happened in Dick’s eight month absence.  And eventually he’ll ask without really asking if he’s right.

“I’m fine,” Dick repeated after a moment.  Taking a slow breath and swallow to settle his flaring nerves.  “I just...needed a moment.”

Bruce merely made a sound at Dick, before nodding.

Carefully Dick eased back from the car, letting out a heavy breath as moved back.  He watched as Bruce carefully make his way around the Batmobile. Sliding off his cowl as he neared.  He stopped just out of range of any attack Dick could muster up if he wanted to.

Or rather what  _ use _ to be Dick’s range of attack. 

It had widened greatly over the last three-quarters of the year.

But he was waiting for Dick to give him the clear to approach.  

Dick swallowed thickly as he straightened up some more, and gave a weak shadow of smile towards Bruce.  Slightly turned his attention to the cave around him, as Bruce slowly took a step towards him.

“Better?”  Bruce asked, as he lightly rested his hand on Dick’s shoulder.

No, not entirely.

Dick wanted to bury himself against Bruce’s chest till the horrors of everything eased away and he felt safe.  He wanted to huddle and bury himself in Bruce’s cape, and be assured they can’t find him.  That  _ Slade _ can’t find him and take him away..  Be told that things will work out and he can talk about whatever completely happened whenever he felt up to doing so.

But he can’t.

Because something would come out.  

Either Dick would say to much, or Bruce will feel it before Dick could stop it.

“Better,” Dick parroted as he eased out from Bruce’s touch.

He pivoted sharply on his heels and made his way towards the depths of the cave and the batcomputer.  Doing his best to put a little distance between himself and Bruce.

The sound of Bruce’s boots behind him, told Dick he was following at a distance.  And he was making sure his boots made sound with each step.  So Dick knew exactly where he was.

The acrobat turned his attention to glancing around the cave.  Even though it hadn’t changed too much from the last time he saw it.  Which had been in the middle of very heated shouting match with Bruce.  There were maybe one or two things that were visibly new to him.  A new torpey from some villain plot, an extra custom case.  

Things didn’t let himself linger on to long as there was an angry flare in his fingers.

He takes some time relishing in the quiet of the cave.  

Given the hour of the morning, it’s not too much of a surprise.

At that hour Batman was rarely even out on the streets unless something big is going down.  Bruce was usually working on the computer.  Typing away reports and carefully analysing something after everyone turned in for the night.

“Ah, Master Bruce, I thought I had heard you return.”  Alfred’s voice said suddenly, and he’s just sort of there at the base of the stairs.  

Bruce hummed in reply.

A neutral and absent sound of acknowledgement, even to Dick’s ears. 

Yet still something of a slight gentleness to it as Bruce moved behind Dick.  Again with an audible sound of his boots as he walked behind Dick.  Giving him a wide girth as he moved in the direction of the locker room with little more than a grumble of the fact that he was going to change.

Alfred hummed at the statement.  “And I see you have finally returned home, young Master Dick.”  Alfred said as he turned to look at Dick.

His tone of voice was easy and calm.  

Almost like Dick just decided to take a really long vacation without warning.  Or ran away to some friends house for a few days after a bad argument.  Instead of disappearing for eight months and coming back looking like someone had more than put him through the ringer.  

Leave it to Alfred make it sound like nothing was wrong when it counted.

“Hey Alf,”  Dick greeted in return, before his gaze dove to the ground.

A sudden wave of awkwardness and unease came over him, causing Dick to shove his hands in his pocket and fidget slightly, for some reason.  

He knew it wasn’t because he was suddenly  _ alone _ with Alfred while Bruce changed.  

Not that was actually a bit of a relief.

Unlike Bruce, Alfred wasn’t going to press for things he might observe or notice about Dick.  Rather let the teen come and tell him when he was ready to do so.  And he would so seamless adjust to giving him whatever amount of space Dick might need, it would almost feel like nothing is wrong.   It was just another Tuesday evening, and Dick suddenly spiralling into a sudden panic over nothing but memories was normal. 

Nor was he going to say anything of his thoughts to Dick’s face unless he felt it was utterly necessary to preserving Dick’s health.  All without out a single sense of anything that could sound like judgement when he talked.

But Dick has half the sense that the butler was going to say something curt about his condition.  

Scold him for being careless and not reaching out for help sooner. How foolish it was of him to try and prove himself doing whatever he was doing.  With just enough bite in his voice for Dick to get a taste of how worried and concern they had all been his absence.

Which Dick really didn’t want.

The butler took easily took his measured steps toward the acrobat.

Dick immediately shoved down the feeling of tingling in his limbs that flared up at the sound.

Alfred wasn’t going to hurt him.

Alfred wasn’t going to do  _ anything _ to him.  

Other than maybe be disappointed in him.  Which Dick suddenly realized is probably worse than anything else as the the tips of Alfred’s shoes come into view at the edges of Dick’s view of the floor.

“It looks like you’ve been through quite the ordeal, Master Dick.”  Alfred spoke softly.

Dick looked up sharply in surprise at the words.  Finding the butler to calmly be standing within easy reach of him.  Not even an ounce of concern lingering in the air that Dick would hurt him.  Just a calmness that relaxed Dick more than he would have guess.

“That’s one way to put it, Alfred.”  Dick smiled back sheepishly. 

Alfred hummed at him absently.

“Let’s get you to your room, Master Dick,”  Alfred continued.  A gentle and soft expression of his face as he moved to Dick’s side.  Carefully reaching out to over his hand over the back of Dick’s arm in a motion to guide him without touching him.  However he didn’t move an inch, merely waiting for Dick to do so.  “Surely you must be tried.”

Dick wasn’t.  

But the idea of his own bed was alluring.  

Far more than whatever was the softest surface he could find, or a stiff old hospital bed.  Or a cold metal surface with thin leather padding.

“Yeah, that sounds good”  Dick said, as he left Alfred guide him up the stairs.

* * *

“So, Dick, how have your first few days at the manor been.” Dinah asked lightly as she easily leaned back in the chair she was in.  

The carefully prepared cup of tea she had made moments prior in hand.  Her tone is light, and sickly conversational.  Like they were the oldest of friends catching up over  a simply cup of coffee in some shop somewhere.  Instead of a doctor and patient sitting in a windowless room in the manor, per Dick’s slight request, drinking a tea known to be calming.

And while it might actually be an attempt and light conversation.

Dick already knew it was a trap.

A ploy to lure him into a sense of security and trust.  The start of establishing a safe place, in more than just a room.  All so he’ll open up easier in the long wrong.

The teen had been through the routine a few times to know.

Not to mention the fact that the older woman had gone out of her way to make sure Dick is most at ease.  She came to the manor for the session.  Dressed in calm colors and soft textures, outside of her leather jacket and black boots.  Let Dick decide which room they were going to meet in.  And even though she acted slightly surprise, Dick knew she asked Alfred to make the tea the first moment she arrived.

However, he knew resisting could be more telling than playing along.

“Fine,”  Dick shrugged in reply.  Acting like he was debating the number of sugar cubes to put in the cup Dinah poured him earlier.  “...I guess.”

The blonde woman hummed lightly.  

She took a shallow drink from her tea cup.  Providing Dick space to elaborate on what that meant, without verbally asking him too.

Dick kept his mouth shut.

“Alfred said you’ve been physically recovering well.”  Dinah started with a warm smile after a moment.  She placed her cup on the end table beside her chair.  “That your wounds have mostly healed up nicely.  And you’re eating well, and getting lots of rest.”

It’s all coded words.  

After all he was healing faster than normal.  Which isn’t a _ bad _ thing in anyway.  But Alfred’s noticed his ribs were healed further along they should be.  Thankfully, it had been chalked up to a simple miscalculation and never talked of again.

Dick was eating whatever Alfred gave him.  Even when he didn’t feel completely up to it.  Mostly because it just wasn’t worth refusing any of it.  He was slowly regaining some of the body mass he had lost.

There there was fact that his sleeping pattern was erratic.

Sleep found him...when it found him.

Consisting more of sporadic naps of  _ extremely _ light sleep whenever Dick felt safe enough to close his eyes and drift off.  Only to snap away at the slightest sound or unexpected movement. It was rare for him to actually sleep deeply on his own.  Alfred had carefully placed few sedatives in one or two of his meals so Dick would sleep.  But it wasn’t uncommon to find Dick sleeping somewhere in the manor the past few days.

“Yeah,” Dick nodded easily.  “I’m projected to be cleared for light exercise at the end of the week.”

“That’s wonderful.” Dinah commented lightly with a warm grin.  “You must be counting down the days.”

Not really.

Dick was more than capable to move around with his injuries.  He knew he was capable of his full range of motion.  Those three months running and hiding he had to be about to move constantly.  He learned ways to compensate for anything a long time ago.  

He could move, flip, and fight like nothing was even wrong with him, other than perhaps a slight soreness from movement.  Even though, he really shouldn’t be.

At least not when Bruce is watching him constantly.

However, Dick just nodded at Dinah as he dropped a third sugar cube in his tea.

“Are Jason and you getting along well?”  Dinah asked lightly as she watched Dick stir his tea.

“We’ve talked like five times.”  Dick informed idley. 

He made a point to look at the blonde woman before him, so she can see he’s not trying to shove off the question.  Rather it was truth, mostly because Jason and Dick seemed to have made a point of avoiding the other when possible. For seperate reasons Dick was sure.  Aside for one or two times, where curiosity got the better of them.

“I haven’t thrown him across the room yet.”  Dick stated firmly.  “If that is what your asking.”

He  _ almost  _ did once.  

But that was because Dick fell off a sofa in the library after waking up, and Jason just rushed over to sure he was okay.  A brief and blind moment of disoriented panic, that Dick saw through before it was too late and excused himself from the room.

Dinah hummed with a slight chuckle. 

Like she understood exactly what Dick meant by his words.  Or at least found it to be an attempt at humor on Dick’s part on adjusting to the other new Robin.

Again, Dinah let another patch of silence settle before them.  To once again give Dick space to elaborate or complain about something without pressing him too.  Almost like she left there was a story Dick had, when he really didn’t.

Dinah opened her mouth to ask another question as the silence stretched on just slightly too long.  A look crossed her face that Dick couldn’t really read much.  But he just knows it’s a mental note of some kind about his behavior in the session so far.

“How much longer are you going to be around the bush?”  Dick asked pointedly, before she could even get a word out.

“What do you mean?”  Dinah asked, confusion hanging in her voice.

“When are you going to ask what happened to me in the eight months I was missing?”  Dick asked sharply.  Making a point to glare at the older woman harshly.

Dinah looked at him a moment.  Carefulling choosing her words.

She probably knew what happened when Clark first asked Dick about it. Clark probably told her at some point.  Or Conner had, after Dick almost broke Wally’s wrist when the speedster asked casually while trying to steal a fry.  

Perhaps Alfred mentioned the panic attack Dick had over curtains being opened.  Or any of the two other times either Bruce or Alfred had found Dick on the tail of panic attack that he didn’t care to share about what brought it out.  Merely stormed over to handle it alone, then act like nothing ever happened after.

Dinah was still for a few moments before she shifted in she seat.  Leaning forward in the chair.  Resting her elbows on her thighs lightly as she watched the acrobat carefully.  Dick doesn’t shift under her gaze.

“Do you want to talk about what happened in those eight months?”  Dinah asked calmly.

“No.” Dick said, staring down the cup of tea on the table before him.

His hands suddenly felt clammy, and there was a rush of a tingling in his fingers.

“Dick, you know nothing you say to me will leave this room.”  Dinah assured softly, like she always did whenever Dick hesitated ever so slightly.  And he knew she wouldn’t tell Bruce anything beyond the vaguest of details if she felt it necessary.  “It’s a safe place.  You can tell me what happened.”

No Dick can’t.  

“You won’t look at me the same if you knew.”  Dick said before he could stop himself.

Which is true.  

She wouldn’t.  No one would if they knew.  They’d all treat him differently.

Dick had determined that a long time when he was huddled under a box shelter in the  cold rain so shortly after escaping.  It wasn’t going to be a good idea to come back saying what happened when he finally returned.  The team and League has been played before, they wouldn’t just take him back with open arms if he told them after being gone for so long.  

He’d be lucky if they kept him within an arm's reach and under close watch.

However he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Dinah jumped in surprise at the words.  

Her expression shifting just slightly as Dick could see the conclusion setting in.  He could tell it wasn’t the right one.  Not in a long shot.  But it more obviously explained some things, without Dick saying anything.

“Dick, that’s not true.”  Dinah assured gently.  Leaning in more towards Dick.  “I’m not going to think any different of you after whatever happened.  Your a smart, tough teenager who fights for people and justice without any powers.  Nothing is going to change that.”

The teen wanted to laugh.

Laugh at the sick irony of it all.  Laugh until he was crying at the idea.  Crying and tearing his very skin apart and the tingling was tangible to prove how wrong she was.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.  Not yet.

Dick ducked down his head to stared at his shoes. He goes still and wedged his hands between his legs.  Showing the tingling into the couch.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”  Dick stated flatly, as he peeked up at Dinah.  Finding the female hero watching him closely.  “I...not yet.”

“Okay.”  Dinah stated easily.  Like it really didn’t matter if Dick bottled and locked whatever happened away.  Another simply way for her to build trust.  Let Dick come to her more on his own terms before starting to press for him to talk more.  “That’s completely fine.  We don’t have to talk about it today.  What do you want to talk about?”

Dick shrugged sheepishly in reply.  

Dinah hummed in thought for a moment as she leaned back into her chair again.  “How about, we talk about your plans for Nightwing.”  She suggested with an easy smile.

And Dick supposed that was a safe enough topic to fill the rest of the session.

* * *

Dick picked his meal slightly.  Rolling around a piece of potato around his plate while he half listened to Jason as he told Bruce about his day at school.

Which didn’t sound like anything eventful. 

Other than perhaps Barbara scaring away some juniors that thought they were all that.

Bruce just hummed lightly at everything as he ate his meal.

Even since Dick had returned to the manor, dinner had become an awkward affair.  

Jason suddenly insecure about his position with Bruce now that Dick was back.  And vise versa, only, perhaps Dick could really didn’t care too much about Jason being there.  More the fact that Bruce felt he could just give Robin away to whomever he wanted.  Bruce seemed to be doing his best to divide his attention between the two.  

Only it never felt like he was actually succeeding in doing it on anyone’s part.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Bruce said turning to Dick over something Jason said....or might have said.  

Dick turned to see Bruce fish around in his suit jacket before producing a long folded piece of paper.  He laid it on the table carefully, before sliding it over to Dick for him to look at.  Which was what Dick did for a bit before looking back up at Bruce.

“What is that?”  He asked as he reached for the paper cautiously.

He couldn’t be sure of what it was.  For all he knew, Bruce could have found something and decided dinner was the best time to spring it on Dick.  So he couldn’t easily run away or avoid it.  Force Dick’s hand into giving himself something about his missing time.

“It’s a press release.”  Bruce answered simply, turning his attention to his food, as Dick carefully unfolded the paper.

_ Bruce Wayne’s first charge, Dick Grayson, returned home... _ were the first words that caught Dick’s eyes as he lifted the first fold.  Dick’s blood ran cold at the sight of the words.  He carefully swallowed down the slight panic that rose up in his throat as the started to scan the letter over.

It’s brief and carefully worded.  Vague details that supplied enough details for information, but gave no real answers as to what happened.  Other than his return to Wayne Manor, and a loose details of whatever cover store Bruce made up for Dick leaving in the first place.  And of course the standard ask of privacy that came in such press releases.

“I’m giving to Wanye Enterprises tomorrow morning to release to appropriate parties.” Bruce continued.

“ _ No, _ ”  Dick stated sharply.

“What?”  Bruce asked, genuinely shocked and confused.

“No!  You’re not releasing that too  _ anyone _ !”  Dick hiss lowly.

“Dick,”  Bruce started levely.  

He paused suddenly to collect the right words for what he wanted to say to reason with Dick about the whole thing.  Reasons that Dick knew would make complete logical sense.  Because he’s not  _ missing _ any more bring the big one.

But Dick had logical ones to as to why not release it.  Only he wasn’t going to say them, because that would mean saying what happened to him.  And he can’t do that yet.

“No.”  Dick repeated firmly.  

He glared at Bruce angrly.  Because his rejection of the idea should be enough.  Especially considering Bruce still handled Dick like he was a scared animal going to bite him.

“Why?”  Bruce asked levely.  But there was a growl on the edge of his voice that he never failed to get when Dick tested his every last nerve.

_ It’s too soon _ , the acrobat thought harshly.

Too soon for Dick to let Bruce put out a big flashing arrow as to where he was.  Because they will come running.  Swarm in numbers, and Dick will be gone...or outed, before Batman could even lift a finger.

“Because I said no, dammit!”  Dick spat out venomously.  

His chair clattering to the ground as he stood up sharply with the words.  Slamming his hands on the large dining room table.  Everything on the table bounced up at the impact, and came back down a fraction too slow.  Dick was probably the only one that even noticed it, but he still noticed it.

His eyes widened, and he suddenly pulled his hands away from the table like it burned.

“Master Dick, is everything alright?”  Alfred’s voice suddenly cut through to him.  

Dick suddenly finds himself a few feet away from the table.  His breathing is labored slightly, and his hands feel funny.  Sweaty and cold, but burning with a tingle at the same time.

Bruce was half way out of his own chair.  His face filled with a mix of genuine things in a way Dick had never seen before.  His arm around stretched slightly for Alfred, who was just a foot out of the first Robin’s arm reach.  More than ready to move and grab the older butler if Dick sudden went on the attack.  Yank Alfred calm demour away from Dick if he decided he didn’t want it.  

Jason was still in his seat.  But his eyes were flickering between the three.  Done with a such a speed it almost makes Dick’s head spin.  And the young teen looked genuinely freaked out.  Probably because Dick was freaking out over something none of them could see.

“I...I…”  Dick struggled out horsley.  “I need to go.”  He swallowed thickly, as he took another step away from the table.  “I need to go to my room.”

And he turned and ran with little else.

He ignored Bruce’s call of his name after him as he scrambled up the stairs.  Slammed his bedroom door loudly.  A sharp demand for Bruce not to follow.  Ignoring the way it slightly rattled the whole manor.  

Dick leaned his back on the door.  Closing his eyes to breath away the raising panic in the back of his mind.  

Because that was more than  _ close _ .  

He needed to get out of there.  Out of the manor.

So Dick left.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> So we are learning a bit more about what happened to Dick. In the next fic, it comes out more, and there is no more clouding language for it. But yeah.
> 
> Thanks are happening.
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed this, and I will see you tomorrow.


End file.
